


Surprises

by timehopper



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Background Ana Amari/Jesse McCree, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/M, Lingerie, Mommy Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Photographs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24151966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timehopper/pseuds/timehopper
Summary: Jesse McCree shows up to Dr. Liao's lab for guard duty... and finds that guard duty may not actually be on the agenda today, after all.
Relationships: Liao/Jesse McCree
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I can't believe it's been nearly 6 months since I last posted an Overwatch fic. Dang!
> 
> This fic was commissioned.

Whatever McCree had expected when he’d entered Dr. Liao’s office that day, it had not been the sight that greeted him. 

“Good afternoon, Jesse.” Mina Liao fixes him with a heavy-lidded stare, her lips curling as she beckons him to the lab bench upon which she sits, clad in nothing but her lab coat and some very strategically-placed leather straps. “Here for your regular watch?” 

McCree rolls the cigar in his mouth from one corner of it to the other. There are a hundred different ways this could go - he could walk out right now, stay within the parameters of the job; he could strip down and bend her over the bench and fuck her ‘til she screamed; he could offer to find her something else to wear, make a joke about her being short on clothing. But in the time it takes him to process what’s happening and what he’s looking at, his mouth is already moving. “What’s with the get-up?” 

If she’s perturbed by his careful lack of enthusiasm, Dr. Liao doesn’t show it. If anything, her smile grows wider. She slips from the lab bench and walks over to McCree, heels clicking against the linoleum tile. “Ana tells me you like older women,” she says simply. McCree swallows, and without thinking, his hands come up to bracket her hips, right as she wraps her arms around his neck. “I thought I would see for myself. How does _this_ mommy suit you?” 

He swallows thickly. She plucks the cigar from his mouth and holds it aloft between two fingers. Absently, McCree notes her nails are painted - unusual for someone who works in a lab, who so often has to deal with assembling and disassembling parts. 

“...Quite the plan you’ve enacted here.” McCree smiles in spite of himself. His grip on Liao’s hips tightens, and he pulls her close. “It’d be a shame if I didn’t let you see it through to the end.” 

He kisses her. Liao’s hand comes up to cup the back of his head, her fingers carding through his short, cropped hair. He’s just gotten his hair cut after endlessly enduring Reyes’s many complaints, and he can’t help but wonder what this might have felt like even a few days ago, when she could have curled his hair around her fingers and pulled. 

Liao pulls away, tongue still poking out from between her lips. She smirks at McCree and walks backwards - one, two, three steps - and stubs his cigar out on the bench behind her. She slides back on top of it, crossing her legs one over the other as she leans back on her palms. She couldn’t have been any more inviting if she’d actually had the audacity to tell him _come hither_ out loud, but McCree advances all the same, and he’s collected into her arms as she pulls him into another deep, slow kiss. 

His hands slide under her lab coat to trace up her sides, fingertips catching on the leather straps around her waist and ribcage. He pauses to trace along them and shivers at the texture. This is the _good_ stuff. McCree wonders if Liao had bought it specifically for him. 

He growls into her mouth, emboldened by the thought, and happily swallows her responding moan. 

“Echo shut off?” he asks, reaching for her coat and slipping it from her shoulders, perhaps a little bit clumsily. He can hardly care about being _graceful_ , however, when he can feel her breasts press up against his chest and her teeth dig into his bottom lip.

“Don’t want her learning any of this?” Liao asks. McCree shivers at her teasing tone, normally so unlike her. “I would have thought you would be excited at the prospect of her recreating this scenario.” 

He knows her well enough by now to know she’s joking, but still, the thought makes McCree groan and his cock twitch in his pants. No doubt she can feel it. 

Liao laughs. “Yes, I’ve shut her down. For now. I’ve decided I want you all to myself.” 

She kisses him again, and McCree opens his mouth for her right away. His hands wander to her back, up over her shoulders, to her chest. They slide down as he pulls back to give himself enough room to touch and hold her...

Liao pulls back, leaving McCree breathless. She smiles at him as she unfolds her legs, lifts one heeled foot, and rests it against McCree’s stomach. Just the smallest bit of pressure is all it takes for her to push him back.

“Ah-ah.” She leans back and that foot comes up to rest on his shoulder, only to push him down to his knees. “Not until you give me what I want, first.” 

He looks up at her, and the smile on her face - devious, satisfied, affectionate - sends a chill all the way down McCree’s spine. He shuffles forward, already knowing what she wants even without being told specifically, and reaches for her knees so he can spread them apart. 

And damn, is she _gorgeous._

It’s a little bit overwhelming, at first. McCree is no stranger to the most intimate parts of a woman’s body, and he’s had his fair share of older women, but Liao is just… immaculate. She’s spread out just right, from a combination of McCree holding her knees and the angle at which she leans back. The lingerie she’s chosen frames her perfectly, the straps wrapping around her thighs and leaving her flushed, wet pussy completely exposed. She’s practically dripping on the counter already. He longs for a taste. 

And so he leans forward, but is suddenly held back by a hand on the top of his head. He looks up at Liao, and she frowns down at him. 

“Jesse. You know better than to just take what you want,” she chides. “I didn’t think I would need to remind you of your manners.” 

His eyes go wide. So that’s the kind of game she wants to play. 

“You’re right. Sorry, ma’am.” The hand on his head tenses, Liao’s nails scratching against his scalp. Wrong answer. “I mean - sorry, Mommy. I’ll be better, promise.” 

“Good boy.” She pets his head, and Jesse melts under her touch. “Now, what was it you wanted?” 

“I want to eat you out.” He swallows. “Please, Mommy. Just a taste.” 

Her lips curl into a smile. “Very well. Go ahead, Jesse. You have my permission.” 

“Thank you, Mommy.” 

He moves in slowly, restrained despite how desperately he wants her. And when he finally gets close enough to feel the heat radiating from her, to smell the musk emanating from her, he shivers. Tentatively, McCree sticks his tongue out to lap up a stray drop of precum. 

She tastes like heaven. 

That’s all he needs: just the smallest taste upon his tongue and he’s on her, face buried between her thighs and tongue dancing between her folds. He feels her lean back above him, her hips inching forward just the slightest bit. More than enough to tell him she likes what he’s doing, even without the loud, breathy moan that floats from her throat.

His head twitches back a second, tempted to pull back and ask her, cheekily, if she likes what he’s doing, but the instant he does, Liao hooks an ankle behind McCree’s neck and pushes him back down into her.

"No, Jesse," she sings, toes curling as he moves back into position. "Mommy isn't finished with you yet."

He moans, fingers clenching against her thighs, and surges forward; Liao laughs, beautiful in every way, and draws him in closer. McCree can hardly breathe, but he can't find it in him to care; he's painfully hard in his pants, no doubt leaking at his tip, but as long as his Mommy is happy and taken care of, he is, too.

He feels her shift in front of him, hears the tiny _click!_ of a camera. He looks up, eyes rolling to meet hers but stopping at the phone in her hand.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Liao sings, snapping another photo. She nudges McCree’s head forward again, reminding him to keep going. He does, even as she slips the phone back into the pocket of her lab coat. “I promised Ana I’d take a picture.”

McCree groans, thinking of how Ana might react to seeing him like this – pleasuring another woman – and he shivers, shoving himself forward and going at her pussy with renewed vigor. He has to make sure that when Liao inevitably brags about this, Ana knows he’s done just as good a job for this Mommy as his usual one.

It seems to work; Liao twitches above him, hips jerking with every flick and swirl of McCree’s tongue. She's close already, he can feel it, and he wants more: more of her little grunts and moans; more of her jerking about, trying to force him in deeper; more of her juices spilling from her and soaking his beard.

He gets his wish as she comes, mere moments later, legs curling around his back and face turned toward the ceiling. Liao cries out as she gushes around him, and somewhere in the long, drawn-out moans are words: "Good boy, good boy, so good for Mommy, please, pet, one more, one more."

And who is he to refuse? McCree has always been the type to believe that if a job needs to be done, it should be done right; and he can hardly deny someone as beautiful, as intelligent, as graceful as Mina Liao what she wants, besides. So he keeps going, keeps swirling his tongue around her clit, relentless until she convulses under his mouth again, fists tightening in his hair and forcing him down, down, down.

But at last she lets go, once the tremors wracking her body subside. McCree kisses her clit softly once, twice, thrice, each press of his lips making her jerk and twitch again.

Liao pets his hair and he pulls back to look up at her shining, reverent eyes. "Good... good boy," she breathes, chest heaving so powerfully that her breasts strain against the lingerie. It's a welcome sight, one that makes McCree's cock twitch in his pants. "I think that deserves a reward, don't you?"

She lifts her hand from his head and beckons for him to stand with the curl of an index finger. McCree licks his lips and obeys the gesture, getting to his feet so she can drag him down into a kiss. He groans, thinking of how she must be able to taste herself on his lips, of how she might like the taste of her on his cock--

She pushes him away before the fantasy can fully form in his mind, but the sly smile never leaves her lips, and her hand never leaves the shirt collar where she's grabbed onto. "And what sort of reward would my boy like?"

That, McCree can answer without hesitation. He places a hand on each of Liao's hips, rubbing small circles into them with his thumbs. "Can I fuck you, Mommy?" he asks. "Please?"

"Such language." Liao lightly swats at his arm, and McCree bows his head, ready to apologize, but before he can get a word out, she says, "It's a good thing you asked so nicely. Of course you can."

He looks up at her, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Thank you, Mommy."

He takes a step back, just far enough that he can comfortably undress. He unzips his pants, first, and hooks his fingers into the waistband to tug them down.

"Leave them on."

A smile curls over Liao's face, and although McCree is desperate to strip for her, he knows better than to question his Mommy. Instead he nods, exasperated breath coming out shaky as he simply tugs his cock free for her.

"Oh, my." Liao licks her lips. Her eyes are wide as she looks down at McCree, drinks in the sight of his cock. For a second, McCree wonders if he should strike a pose, but he decides against it; slowly teasing her with a slow stroke, pushing the foreskin over his cock and pulling it back again to reveal the thick, swollen, dripping head seems to be good enough.

Liao practically squirms on the table before spreading her legs. "Ana didn't mention _this_ ," she says as he comes closer, reaching out and tracing her fingertip over his slit. McCree shivers and groans, and if he were a younger or lesser man, he isn't sure he wouldn't have come then and there, just from that tiny little touch. "Apparently she's been holding out on me."

"I take it you like what you see, then," McCree teases. In response, Liao grabs him by the arms and pulls him flush to her. She traces a hand down his arm, past his hand, over his hip, stopping only when she can wrap her thin, lithe fingers around his cock.

"Inside me," she says. "Now."

McCree wastes no time. He leans Liao back, lifts her hips, and presses himself inside her.

And she _clenches_.

McCree groans at the same time Liao throws her head back and gasps, and he presses himself in, in, in, until he bottoms out and feels her clamp down around him. It's almost too much, too fast, and he stops to ask if she needs time to adjust, but Liao answers the question before he can even ask it with a violent roll of her hips.

"Well alright then," McCree says. "Whatever Mommy wants, Mommy gets."

He sets a brutal pace, thrusting in and out of her as hard as he wants. Normally, he would be gentler, slower at first - he knows he's big, knows he's a lot to handle - but Liao seems just as interested in a hard, rough fuck as he is, and so he meets her every thrust with one of his own, each one more intense than the last. It isn't long before she's nearly screaming - would be screaming, too, if she wasn't muffling her cries in his shirt, biting down on his shoulder as McCree lifts her off the bench and fucks her in his arms.

"That what you want, Mommy?" he asks, and though he can't see her face, he can feel her nod vigorously against him.

"Yes - yes, Jesse, yes," she gasps, legs tightening around his waist and fingers clawing at his shirt. She's wild with need, but there's something controlled in it, too - Liao knows how to stay calm, even in the worst situations. McCree shouldn't be surprised that this is no exception, but he is, and that just drives him on further, pushes him to wreck her composure in ways he's never seen before.

It doesn't quite work. She pushes away from him to lean back and press her palms to the top of the lab bench, using it as leverage to push herself onto his cock, over and over and over again. She’s shockingly athletic despite all the time she spends in the lab, and watching her body writhe and undulate as she shows that off makes McCree twitch inside her. And then, when she moves her body just right, angles her hips just that little bit to the left--

Liao cries out again as her whole body goes tense. She's tight around McCree - too tight, and too wet; her juices gush from her as she comes, soaking McCree's pants around the fly and even further easing the slide of his cock in and out of her. Her orgasm crashes over her body in roiling, undulating waves, and McCree watches her writhe with it, dropping his arms to support her back as the waves finally subside and she goes limp.

"Ahh," she half-sighs, half-moans. Jesse leans forward as she reaches for his face and strokes his beard. "What a good boy you are Jesse."

Her words are uneven, tone and volume rising and falling as McCree keeps thrusting, keeps jolting her body. But the meaning is clear as day: she's enamoured, blissed-out, only half-aware of what's going on. And yet she's still smiling, and so is McCree. He’s close, so close, and he just needs--

"Please, Mommy," he begs, not too proud to lean over and bury his face in her neck. "Please, I--"

"Yes." Liao sighs. She shifts in his arms, changing the angle again. It's perfect, she's perfect, and McCree feels himself creep ever closer to the edge. "Go ahead, Jesse, my sweet boy, my perfect boy. Come for me."

And he does, the force of it hitting him like dynamite. He squeezes his eyes shut, grits his teeth, and comes with a strangled groan, spilling himself inside her and pulsing even as her insides massage him and milk him for all he's worth.

McCree doesn't know how long it takes for him to come down from that high, but when he does, Dr. Liao is still smiling, still stroking his cheek, his hair, his back. It's soothing, it's _right_ , and he relaxes into her touch, sighing as she slides herself off of him.

"Good boy," she says.

McCree shivers. "Only the best for Mommy," he says without thinking. When he straightens up and opens his eyes, it's to see her covering her mouth and trying to hold back a laugh.

"What?" he asks, a grin tugging at his lips. "Too much?"

"No, not at all." Liao lets herself chuckle. "I quite like it when you call me that. And you were so good, Jesse, I think you deserve it."

She stands up, but, as McCree notes with a little spark of glee, she needs to lean against the lab bench to keep herself upright. "Goodness," she says. "What a mess. Look at you."

"Sorry." He sees her eyes move down his uniform and rest over his cock as it slowly begins to soften. "Hm? What, is somethin’ the matter?"

"Oh, yes. You can't leave here looking like that," Liao says, and the way her tone lowers, McCree knows exactly what she has in mind to keep him here. "It would be most unprofessional."

He looks down at himself. Sure enough, his pants are soaked. His shirt collar no doubt is, too, from how much she had clearly enjoyed him going down on her. "Right you are," he says. "Now what are we gonna do about that?"

Liao says nothing. All she does is sidle up to him, wrap her arms around his neck, and pull him down into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and think you might like to see more, have a chat, or would like to get to know me, please check out my twitter [@tim3hopp3r](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r).
> 
> And if you would like to find out how to support me, I have a handy list of links right [here](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r/status/1355219789560471554). Please check it out! I wouldn't be able to do this without people like you supporting me. ♥
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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